


Year of the Snake

by Tarlan



Category: Boa vs. Python (2004), Thoughtcrimes (2003)
Genre: Drama, Hewligan, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-20
Updated: 2008-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emmett is out of funding and almost out of time to save Betty and his research when Brendan steps into his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Year of the Snake

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **threnodyjones** in the LJ psychic_snakes Exchange. You wanted a story with PLOT but no D/S, non-con, or crack - except for psychics and 70 foot snakes :-D I really do hope you enjoy the story I've written for you!
> 
> Many thanks to **amnesiajane, aqualegia and bluespirit_star** for the beta duties! It really was so much appreciated and the story is fifty-times better because of your help. Of course, anything still out of whack is totally down to me - just have to touch things! Also Hewligan_100 prompt 010: Years

Emmett stared through the wide window that gave him a view into Betty's enclosure, watching as she coiled beneath the large lamp that provided the heat she needed to keep warm. She raised her head lazily, and if he had not known her eyesight was particularly poor compared to her other senses, then he might have convinced himself that she was looking right at him. He half smiled. She was probably picking up his heat signature in the cold laboratory as he doubted his scent passed through the thick Plexiglas separating them, and he wondered if she would draw closer to the glass if he moved closer on his side.

The idea fled before he could be bothered to try and see, so he stood still and simply watched her, letting his thoughts drift aimlessly.

Snakes had always figured strongly in his family. Both of his parents were born in the Year of the Snake, 1941, meeting each other in college and defending their dissertations only weeks apart. As part of their celebration, they chose to become Drs. Emmett and Emmett, one specializing in the erosion of natural habitats within the rain forest, and the other in the botanical study of the rain forest with a view to cataloging specimens before they became extinct through man's encroachment.

Emmett wondered what it had been like for them to be so young and carefree, and so in love. He'd seen photographs taken of them together, smiling brightly in the belief that the world was laid out at their feet, simply waiting for them to reach out and grab what they wanted. He recalled his aunt mentioning their zest for life and the joy they brought to everyone around them -- before that fateful day.

In the Year of the Snake, 1977, he had barely turned six years old when his parents gained funding from a large pharmaceutical company and rather than be separated from their two small children, they took Emmett and his younger sister, Amelie, with them to a small village just outside of Buenos Aires. When Amelie stepped on a snake, he had still been too young to comprehend the terror in his mother's eyes as his father bundled them all into the car in the middle of the night. He could recall his mother's shrill cries as she held onto his comatose sister so tightly, and his father driving like a maniac on the dangerous, unlit roads while Emmett huddled against the passenger door.

Amelie had died that night and it had taken a long time before he realized that she wasn't simply living someplace else, that she was gone, lost forever. Months of grief had followed, filled with bitterness and recriminations and yet, not once did his parents blame the snake that had curled under the sink and struck out at Amelie when she went to use the bathroom.

They never stopped blaming each other though for their complacency, for not checking for danger, and this tore apart what remained of their family.

He understood now, understood all too well the momentary lapse in judgment that destroyed everything. He'd made that same mistake here by not paying close enough attention to the financial snake of an accountant who had bitten him in the ass. The man had siphoned off a large proportion of his funding and then disappeared, evading all the efforts of the local Police to find him.

At least Emmett could put some of the blame for his situation squarely onto the accountant who had stolen the money and left him heavily in debt.

He crumpled the _final demand_ letter from the bank in his hand, aware that he had no way of meeting their demand at this very moment but determined not to give up just yet.

Betty distracted him from his disjointed thoughts by choosing that moment to slither across from her favorite sunning place to the other side of the window. He could see her tongue flicking out to taste the glass that separated them and wondered if that baffled her on some level. Despite all his years working as a herpetologist, many of them with Betty, he still had so much to learn about her and her behavior. She was so different from the other snakes he had studied as part of his thesis.

His parents had made sure he understood that every snake had a different venom that had to be counteracted, and that small communities could not afford to keep stocks for every type of poisonous snake that slithered within their vicinity. The obvious solution, even as a six-year-old, was for someone to create a universal antivenin; a polyvalent to counteract all snake bites rather than just a small handful of species.

He doubted if they ever truly realized the effect this knowledge would have on him, too caught up in their own grief and their need to find someone to blame to notice. From that early age, he studied every book he could find on snakes, borrowing them from libraries, attending lectures at local zoos until, in the Year of the Snake, 1989, he gained a place at a prestigious Boston college as an undergraduate, taking his first important steps into research in molecular biology. That was when he started to focus on the real problem, that more people died each year purely because they were either too incapacitated to identify the poisonous snake that had bitten them - like Amelie - or too poor to afford the expensive antivenin that could save them.

He had spent years puzzling over that conundrum and, by the next Year of the Snake in 2001, he had defended his second doctorate successfully and founded the Longreen Snake Reserve in Elkins with sponsorship money from various sources including a huge loan from the bank.

Emmett looked away from Betty and stared around the laboratory that had been his home for these past five years, recalling all the long hours he had put into both aspects of his life's work. Selling up his house and moving into his office had been no real hardship because he spent almost every waking hour here anyway. Only rarely did he acknowledge a wish that he'd had a reason for wanting to be away from here, having someone he loved waiting for him at home - someone who loved him in return.

Finding a universal antivenin was a solitary pursuit for the most part but the other part - educating people into realizing that snakes were not the hardened criminals of the animal world that should be destroyed on sight - required lectures and displays. At least that part of his work had given him human contact, taking the bitter edge off his loneliness.

He snorted softly. He'd loved the animal handling sessions, watching kids with wide, stunned eyes holding and stroking one of the non-venomous, constrictor snakes from his collection. Not Betty though. She remained out of the public eye for fear of striking panic into his paying visitors. She was a big snake, the largest held in captivity and possibly even the largest in the world because she was not a natural occurrence - as far as anyone was aware. The python she had hunted down recently beneath the surface of Philadelphia, had been genetically manufactured too. Agent Sharpe had shown him the research papers from that ill-fated experiment in Russia. He recalled his words...

"It was only a matter of time before that missing snake turned up somewhere in the world."

Emmett guessed no one had ever considered the possibility of someone like Broddick buying it just to hunt it down and kill it.

Betty pressed against the glass and Emmett pressed back with one hand. Perhaps he was wrong and her sense of smell was acute enough to scent him even through the thick glass because she seemed to taste the air and glass. After all, her enclosure was not hermetically sealed like a spacecraft. There was an exchange of gases, of air, between the two environments so, theoretically, it was possible.

"What am I going to do with you?" he murmured.

****

Brendan slid down the wall, drawing his knees to his chin, gun dangling from between his hands as he eyed the carnage before him. This was one hostage situation that had seemed doomed from the very beginning. Krisholm had made it clear from the start that he would not allow them to take him alive and, even though his hostage was no innocent bystander, Brendan felt regret that Krisholm had not given him the desperately needed clean shot before the man pulled the trigger on his hostage. Vasiliev had died instantly and, though he knew every NSA agent present had fired at the same time, all of them intending a killing shot at Krisholm, he could not help but feel personally responsible for Krisholm's death too.

Freya sank down beside him, and he looked to her in concern. Her dark hair was in disarray from where he had pushed her down, and he could see a scrape on her elbow from hitting the hard ground. "You okay?"

She nodded her head, unconsciously cradling her arm. "I picked up on something just before he... There was bad history between them but he was too focused on the situation to leak any details. All I know is that he wanted Vasiliev dead."

"Anything from Vasiliev before he died?" He hated to ask her these things, wondering if she felt anything when a voice in her head was silenced so abruptly, whether she had lived the man's fear as his last moments of life ticked away.

"It was all... disjointed. Random thoughts about bombs, Philadelphia... snakes!"

"Snakes?" Brendan frowned and then recalled this morning's headline about giant snakes found in the water treatment plant in Philadelphia. He sighed. "So nothing really."

She shrugged. "I'll pass it on to Jensen's team anyway."

He let his head fall back against the brick work, knowing Jensen's people would dig a little deeper in case there was a connection, though it did seem more likely that Vasiliev had flashed back to the last hours of his life. He'd probably got up this morning and read the paper while eating a nice leisurely breakfast, and his last thoughts had been wishing he was still back in that peaceful moment.

"Agent Dean? I'll expect your preliminary report on my desk in one hour."

Brendan had looked up upon hearing his name and nodded to Agent Bryce. Originally, he and Freya had been monitoring Krisholm after Freya had picked up information from a suspect concerning illegal shipments of nuclear-grade plutonium into the US. When their suspect had crossed paths with Vasiliev, a Russian physicist who was also under investigation by the NSA, the senior case agent, Bryce, had been placed in charge. Brendan wondered if he'd live long enough to become the senior agent one of these days.

Freya whacked his arm. "Don't be so morbid."

He grinned but, deep inside, he hoped that _his_ last thoughts would be of something more memorable than reading the morning paper. He hoped his last wonderful memory would be of early morning sex with someone he loved; of a warm body lying heavy and sated against his side, head cradled on his shoulder and an arm thrown casually over his still heaving chest. His own fingers would toy with soft chest hairs, and tease the tiny nub of a nipple...

Freya hit him again. "You are so not asking my sister out on a date."

****

Emmett removed his hand from the window and scrubbed his face, it had taken him three years to make his first major breakthrough, extracting the first polyvalent antivenin from Betty's blood, but it was not enough to gain him more funding as the pharmaceutical companies were looking for synthetic antivenins, ones that could be produced in a laboratory rather than in large animals like horses and sheep - or Betty. The animal activists had wreaked havoc over the years, making it no longer cost effective to produce any antivenins except for those countries that could afford them, which condemned thousands of people to death each year in the poorer, third world countries.

Using Betty's blood was only half the story. The other half came in the field of genetics and DNA manipulation in particular, using the altered DNA in Betty's blood to determine the exact chemical combination required to produce a similar change in the bitten human's DNA. That was where his research should have been leading him on the day Monica and Agent Sharpe arrived on the steps of Longreen but, instead, his work had been stalled by the letter that had arrived from the bank a week earlier, giving him a month to find the next repayment or risk losing everything.

Emmett looked down at the crumpled notice of foreclosure, resisting the urge to straighten it out and read it one more time in some misbegotten hope that the wording had changed for the better. Three days from now he would be forced to destroy Betty because none of the zoos and herpetology research centers could take a snake of her size and dietary requirements. He'd already sold all his worldly possessions and on the very day that Sharpe contacted him, he'd had to lay off the few remaining staff, closing the reserve to the public because he could no longer meet with the full health and safety requirements outside of his main laboratory.

Under the circumstances, Agent Sharpe's proposal to use Betty to hunt down a giant python had come at the right time, especially as Sharpe had promised to use his CIA contacts to find alternative funding for Longreen. It had made it slightly easier to go through with the insane plan hatched up by the FBI agent, and allow Monica to attach the audio and visual tracking implants to Betty.

He tilted his head to check out the slight scarring on Betty's head from where the implants had been attached.

"I'm sorry. You lost a lot of blood on the operating table," he murmured, "And they never gave you enough time to fully recover before sending you down after that python." He snorted another self-derisory laugh. "For what it's worth, Betty, I thought I was saving you at the time."

Sharpe had died though, and retrieving Betty after the death of the python had merely delayed the inevitable rather than provide a stay of execution. If Sharpe had spoken to anyone then they had yet to contact him to make the necessary arrangements, and time was running out for Betty.

Emmett turned away from Betty's enclosure and pressed the key that would send the shutter down over the window, sealing Betty away from sight. He moved over to the phone and picked it up, dialing another number committed to memory only a short time ago. Sharpe had given him a contact name but not a number, and tracking down the elusive CIA agent had proved difficult so far.

"I'm trying to get in contact with Agent Morrison?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but there is no Agent Morrison stationed at this office."

"Where can I find him?"

"I'm unable to give out that information without the proper authorization."

He tried several more tactics but, eventually, he slammed down the phone in frustration at yet another failed attempt to find the right contact within the CIA who might have some knowledge of the 'snake program' that Sharpe had mentioned on that first meeting. Sharpe had said the program was dead but maybe that was only because they no longer had a large snake or a herpetologist who could take care of her and help in their research. Admittedly, he hated the idea of helping the government in a covert 'animals used as weapons' program but as long as they allowed him to continue his research into the universal antivenin then he was willing to compromise.

Emmett shivered as he made his way across the laboratory to the large vault door that provided the only access to Betty's enclosure. He'd turned the heating down to the bare minimum so he could expend all the power and his remaining finances on Betty, in keeping her warm and happy and well fed. The bank expected a payment in three days and Emmett hoped to string them along for another three or four days before he ran out of both options and food for Betty.

Opening the first door, he stepped inside the equivalent of an airlock and closed the door behind him. Within the fifteen square foot airlock, he had a single glass cabinet holding a large rattler. It took only moments to tranquilize the snake so it could be handled safely, and while he waited for the effects to take hold, he opened the final vault door, feeling the blast of heat from the interior warm his cold body. He took care as he grasped the rattler just behind the head and walked into the enclosure, moving to the familiar spot and dangling the prize meal. Betty arrived immediately, sizing up the meal and snapping it from his hand, swallowing it whole. He reached down and let her glide away beneath his hand, feeling the smoothness of her scales under his palm and fingers.

In a few more days, he would lose this too, would lose the pleasure of having Betty coiling around him, her scales gliding under his fingertips.

He stayed with Betty for an hour, monitoring her, touching her, observing the way she looked right back at him. He knew she could kill him in minutes if she ever turned on him, coiling around him, squeezing the air out of his body until he could no longer draw breath and asphyxiated but he knew she wouldn't. The genetic modifications used in her creation involved far more than size. He had keyed her to his own DNA. Just like a dog that answered only to its master, Betty knew him, knew his scent and taste, knew the vibrations of his voice.

Her head rose up level with his, forked tongue flicking out to scent the pheromones and salt on his cheek.

"You know, I'm not giving up without a fight," he stated softly. He smiled as she slid away, back towards her favorite sunning spot, coiling in on herself and laying down her head. He followed her and lay down too, closing his eyes and dozing as the heat of the lamps made him feel lethargic.

He awoke an hour later when he felt Betty uncoiling and pushed to his feet.

It was time to give up on finding Agent Morrison and make a few more calls, ones that he had put off until desperate because of the higher risk involved.

****

A week had passed since the Krisholm and Vasiliev incident and Jon Harper had come close to shutting both cases until Jensen's research team came across an interesting piece of information linking Vasiliev to an abandoned animal training project.

Harper tapped on the glass wall of his office when he saw Dean and McAllister wander back into the office. They had been grinning at each other, obviously still on a high from closing their latest case, using information retrieved during their interrogation of a corrupt ATF agent. Harper wasn't certain how McAllister came by her information, seeming to pull ideas from the air with prompts from Dean, and maybe some of it was that much proclaimed woman's intuition but, personally, he wouldn't care if she was a mind reader so long as she and Dean continued to get results.

As they glanced to each other, exchanging a wordless look before heading over, he took a moment to study them. Two months ago he would have never considered placing the two together as partners. Dean had never been that great at teamwork, managing to go through partners like other people went through cups of coffee; a great buzz to start with that quickly petered out, but this partnership was actually working.

Dean's ability to record every word of a conversation and every detail of a scene or report, combined with McAllister's information extraction skills had made them a formidable team. In the two months since they started working together, they had thwarted assassins and terrorists, taking down some of the most hardened criminals out there, so the insistence coming down from the director concerning this latest case baffled Harper even if it was a tenuous link to the Krisholm case.

"Take a seat." He motioned towards the two chairs on the opposite side of his desk, raising an eyebrow as McAllister closed the door without being asked, even though it had been in his thoughts to make the request.

"The director wants you to investigate... this." He passed the case file across the desk and waited for Dean to open it and scan the summary page.

Dean stared at him in disbelief, and Harper could understand his reasons. This was the sort of case given to rookies in the US Customs rather than seasoned agents in the National Security Agency.

"It's a big snake, Dean."

He noticed the small frown before Dean recalled the recent disaster in Philadelphia. "Big... as in giant python sized?" The frown deepened. "Wait! I thought they killed that snake?"

"They killed the python but not the equally large Scarlet Queen Boa that was sent down after the python, and now we're hearing rumors that its owner, Dr. Emmett, has put the snake up for sale to the highest bidder."

Dean exchanged a look with an equally confused McAllister before turning back, and Harper wondered when Dean would enlighten his partner. "I still don't get what this has to do with national security."

"The giant snake is bad enough but, apparently, it becomes a real problem when the doctor offers himself up as part of the deal."

Harper could see that this still made no sense to Dean because scientists moved between countries and companies all the time, though the 'brain drain' was usually in America's favor rather than the other way around. Dean knew there had to be more going on than he was being told so Harper indicated back towards the case file, waiting patiently as the agent scanned through the next couple of pages quickly, eyebrows climbing when he finally realized the significance of Emmett's _defection_. The international company that had responded to Emmett's offer was a front to the Russian Mafia, and that could not bode well for anyone, especially as the Russian Mafia had been behind several recent assassination attempts using animals as weapons. It still wasn't a strong enough reason for NSA involvement but the director had been very insistent that McAllister meet with Emmett to ascertain his true reasons for 'defecting'.

Before Harper could supply the explanation to McAllister, her eyes widened as if she had worked it all out by herself - or maybe she was simply recalling something else that she'd forgotten to do before setting foot in his office.

"You want us to find out if this Dr. Emmett knows what he's getting into." Harper shrugged at her and smiled, leaving McAllister staring back at her partner.

Dean sighed. "Then I guess we'd best go pay Dr. Emmett a visit."

****

It was fortunate that Elkins had an airport, as Brendan wasn't in the mood for a long drive at the other end. By the time they landed, he had read every page of the case file, picking out all the important details related to Dr. Emmett and his giant snake. Of course, the twelve-year-old within sniggered at all the sexual innuendo, earning more than one glare from Freya, but he couldn't help it.

"And you tried to date my sister?" she hissed, and Brendan had to admit that she had a point. As much as he liked June, her lack of a penis had been more of a problem than he had anticipated, especially when he'd always considered himself more straight than gay. Yet the thought of Dr. Emmett and his giant snake had conjured up the most exciting images that would, most likely, get quashed the moment he saw the doctor in real life. The few grainy photos of the man on file were not all that flattering.

Still, appearances aside, his gut feeling was that Emmett was a good guy forced into a difficult situation. From what Brendan could see from the financial reports included in the file, Emmett had failed to secure new funding for his research and was running out of options. Putting up the snake for auction was probably a last ditch attempt to find alternative funding before he was forced to abandon his research and destroy the Boa, and that was going to the main obstacle in their talk with Emmett. Good guy or not, asking him to renege on the deal he had made with Faraday Enterprises would place him in both financial and personal jeopardy, for the Russian Mafia was not known for its leniency towards those that crossed them. He had a feeling that Emmett would be open to persuasion though, as all his research was geared towards helping those who did not have the means to help themselves.

It was early evening when they pulled up outside the institute, with street lamps slowly coming on as dusk gave way to night. For the most part, the building looked dark and uninviting, as if abandoned, but Brendan had it on good authority that Emmett had sold up all his possessions under financial pressure and moved into the institute. A wall lamp brightly illuminated the main entrance, probably so it would provide no safe cover of darkness for any homeless wandering the streets, making them immediately visible to any passing patrol car. Brendan climbed the few steps and peered through the glass panel door, seeing the glimmer of light spilling into the darkened interior some distance away. Freya noticed the buzzer and, at his nod, she pressed it. No sound was heard, but Brendan noticed the slightest increase in the interior light as if a door had opened wider somewhere deeper within the building. The light flickered and then a shadow passed across it, blotting it out momentarily, slowly growing as a man's figure moved towards the door. Brendan felt his breath catch in his throat when the man stopped on the other side and stared through the glass at him, face illuminated by the entrance light, making his blue eyes shine. The grainy photos didn't do justice to the quirky handsome man standing on the other side of the glass, and Brendan's mouth dried.

Damn, the man is hot, he thought, barely noticing Emmett's irritation fading into bemusement and curiosity, as if he could read Brendan's thoughts as clearly as Freya.

"Can I help you?"

Brendan shook himself out of his entrancement and pulled out his ID, pressing it against the glass just beneath the man's eye level because he didn't want to lose sight of those expressive eyes for one moment. He hated the way Emmett's curiosity turned first to dismay and then annoyance as the man studied Brendan's ID.

"Okay. You may as well come in. Just let me..."

He disappeared off and, moments later, Brendan heard the electronic door lock snick open. He pushed against the door and it moved easily, glancing back at Freya for confirmation that all was fine; she nodded, and he narrowed his eyes at the laughter he could read in her eyes, and in the way she pursed her lips. Emmett was back in front of him by the time they stepped inside and allowed the door to close behind them, giving Brendan no time to show any faux-outrage at knowing she had picked up on his unblocked, lustful thoughts.

"Do you mind if I lock this back up?" He gave a half-laugh. "Don't want any more uninvited guests." His eyes widened when he realized how that sounded. "I don't mean you! Even though, technically, you are..."

"It's okay," Freya stated with a smile, her small hand resting on his arm in a gesture that reassured Brendan more than anything that this man was not a hardened criminal intent on luring them to their early deaths. Brendan wondered what thoughts Emmett had given away to Freya in that moment that had left her feeling the need to reassure. The answer came as she posed a question more for Brendan's benefit than for her own. "Have they taken much?"

Emmett seemed to relax a little as he led them through the dark hallway. "Oh, just anything they can sell on eBay, I guess. No live animals though, as most of those have already been moved to various zoos and research centers... temporarily." He laughed deprecatingly and Brendan knew Emmett didn't believe it was a temporary situation. "Just me and Betty left now."

"The giant Scarlet Queen Boa."

Emmett stopped and gave Brendan a strange look. "If you're here to make an offer then you're too late. Faraday Enterprises has..."

"We're not here to bid on you and your snake..." Unfortunately, Brendan added silently, because the thought of having Emmett was making his stomach flutter in the most alarming way. He hadn't felt this way about anyone since his teens and wondered if all the puerile sniggers about Emmett and his large snake had brought it on. He barely flinched when Freya pinched him surreptitiously. "But we would like you to consider not selling to Faraday."

Emmett looked incredibly cute when dismayed, all innocent and boyish, with his mouth turning down even further on one side merely adding to the almost childlike sweetness. His eyes had grown larger, almost luminous in the light spilling through the doorway that they had reached only moments before, the incredible blue shimmering with an otherworldly beauty. Brendan had always laughed at romantic proclamations of drowning in another person's eyes, but he could feel himself being drawn into those liquid depths, sinking fast, and unable to draw breath until another pinch from Freya brought him spluttering back to the surface. Brendan cleared his throat.

"We have reason to believe that Faraday has an ulterior motive for bidding for your services, and particularly for Betty after the recent show in Philadelphia."

Emmett's expression hardened as he turned away, leading them into a laboratory that almost seemed out of place when compared to the rest of the building. This room was ultra-modern and filled with hi-tech equipment. One wall was dominated by a large disc-shaped vault door, and Brendan had a feeling that it led into Betty's enclosure. Emmett confirmed that almost immediately as he walked straight to the control pad beside the door.

"I suppose you want to see Betty," he stated over his shoulder. "Make sure I haven't sold her yet."

Brendan half expected him to open the vault door but, instead, the grating of a metal shutter opening filled the laboratory revealing a large window made of a transparent material that had to be several inches thick, and no doubt unbreakable. Through the window, Brendan could see a large enclosure filled with rocks and dirt, a long pool and part of a tree trunk. Something moved and it took Brendan a moment to realize that what he was seeing was just a small part of a very, very large snake.

"Now that is some snake!"

He glanced across and saw Emmett's proud smile, feeling regret as it faded away. He did not need Freya's telepathy to realize this was not just Emmett's life's work but his passion too, and Brendan could not hold back on a wish that Emmett could be as passionate about him. A poke in the side from Freya had him pushing that desire aside quickly and he tried to look contrite against her raised eyebrow.

"Definitely not letting you date my sister," she whispered out of the side of her mouth before raising her voice to address Emmett. "When are Faraday Enterprises due to collect Betty?"

"Oh... tomorrow at noon." He frowned. "When I heard the buzzer, I thought they'd come early."

A slight nod confirmed that Emmett was telling the truth about the time, and it explained Emmett's irritation earlier at being disturbed. No doubt the man had final plans to work on, arrangements to make for both Betty and his work. Brendan could see the PC was on, with data frozen on its screen and knew they had caught Emmett still working.

"Tomorrow," Brendan stated. He took a deep breath. "Faraday is training animals to use in covert operations..."

"I know." The words were brittle and slightly bitter, and Brendan could tell this was not what Emmett wanted. He had to admit the man was honest at least.

"So you do mind."

"Of course I mind but, unlike Monica's dolphins, Betty is just one giant snake, genetically engineered by me. As far as I'm aware, there are only two more snakes like her in the entire world. They are not going to want to waste Betty on some covert operation..."

"On the contrary, Dr. Emmett." They spun around upon hearing a stranger's voice behind them. " _We_ won't consider the sacrifice of your giant snake a waste."

The tilt of the man's head and the Shipka submachine gun trained on him, warned Brendan not to reach for his gun. Brendan cast a look at Freya, wondering how the man could have sneaked up on them. A chuckle had him turning back.

"Dr. Wells is not the only man studying telepathy and training people on how to block their thoughts." He looked at Emmett's shocked face. "Ah, you weren't aware of Miss McAllister's unique skills."

Brendan watched a deep flush of embarrassment race up Emmett's face as they made eye contact, but the embarrassment quickly gave way to anger.  
"What are you planning to do with Betty?"

"Your... _Betty_ has already proved capable of moving through underground systems and, unlike her smaller cousins, she is large enough to carry a small nuclear device to exactly where we want it."

Emmett seemed shaken for a moment but then he crossed his arms. "And how do you propose to get her to go where you want her to go?"

"Pheromones." The man grinned. "The pheromones of another giant snake in her territory should be sufficient." He sighed. "You see, the problem is that we can reach the point where we wish to explode our bomb, but the security is too tight for us to carry it into the building. However, we can carry in an innocuous bottle of 'perfume' that could accidentally break open, and lead your snake to the exact point below that building, and that is where we will detonate the bomb."

Emmett's face drained of color, and Brendan knew without having to confirm with Freya that this plan would work. He had read the report on the Philadelphia incident, aware that the FBI had used a similar tactic to get Betty to find the dangerous python though, in their case, the pheromones had been given off by a real snake.

"So this is the connection to Dr. Vasiliev. He was going to make the bomb from the imported plutonium." The Faraday agent grinned, confirming Brendan's words. "What about Dr. Emmett?" Brendan had to ask because Faraday had bid on more than just the snake.

"I have no intention of harming Dr. Emmett. He is most valuable... far more than just a _snake doctor_." He laughed at his own pun. "Dr. Emmett is a world renowned geneticist and immunologist too, as his marvelous creation and his work towards a universal antivenin have demonstrated. I am certain we can put those skills to great use in our viral laboratories."

"And if I refuse?"

"I'm certain we can find a means of persuasion, Dr. Emmett." The man shrugged his shoulders before turning his attention back on Brendan and Freya. "Unfortunately, as much as I admire both of your mental abilities, I doubt we will find either you or Miss McAllister so persuasive. Therefore..."

The sudden release on the large vault door caught Brendan and the Faraday operative by surprise but Freya was ready, snatching up a handful of disks and throwing them at the distracted man, causing him to flinch aside as Emmett dove at him, hitting him hard in the side and bringing him down; the Shipka clattered to the floor, sliding several feet away. Within seconds, Brendan had his gun in his hand but Emmett was no match for a trained killer, his body pulled up in front of the kneeling man like a shield, a handgun pressed against his temple.

The man wiped away the blood from a split lip against Emmett's cheek, leaving a red smear behind.

"That was very stupid of you, Dr. Emmett. Although I had no intention of killing you, that did not mean that I would not kill you should you give me reason to doubt your cooperation." He pressed his cheek against Emmett's, breathing in deep. "Still, I can sense real fear in you now."

"Let them go and I'll come with you willingly."

Brendan saw the man's eyes widen in surprise. "Ah, so you are a true humanitarian, as my employers insisted. You are not seeking the universal antivenin solely for prestige and financial gains." He sighed. "My apologies, Dr. Emmett, that I cannot grant your wish."

A slam of something large against the window caused the man to flick his eyes towards Betty's enclosure. It provided the distraction Brendan desperately needed, the single gunshot from his gun echoing around the laboratory. Blood and brains sprayed across the nearby console and over Emmett's shocked face as the snake made another, more violent thump against the glass. Brendan glanced over and saw the huge head staring through the window into the laboratory, wondering if the snake had also sensed Emmett's fear and reacted to it.

Freya had crossed the small distance between her and Emmett and was kneeling on the floor beside the stricken scientist, helping him push aside the body that had slumped across him in death. Brendan joined her, drawing Emmett into a seated position, one hand resting on his shoulder as another wiped the worst of the gore from the man's slightly stubbled cheek.

"You okay?" He asked softly but he could tell Emmett was having a problem hearing him, aware that the bullet impacting so close would be ringing in at least one ear. From personal experience, Brendan knew he would be fine physically, and though every cell in his body wanted to offer continued comfort to the shocked man, Brendan knew he had a job to do. He pulled out his cellphone, lips tightening in annoyance when he couldn't get a signal, most likely due to all the electrical equipment surrounding them. "Keep an eye on him."

He knew his request to Freya was unnecessary as she would have drawn that thought from his mind, but at least he hadn't needed to explain that he was going to call for both back-up and a cleaning crew.

****

Emmett looked up when the NSA agent returned to the laboratory, immediately telling from his face that people were on the way.

"I have a shower in my..." he indicated to beyond a second door that led to what had formerly been his office but had now become his home. It had a washroom room attached with a small cubicle set into one corner. The agent nodded and walked with him to the door, a blush creeping over his cheeks when Emmett gave him a pointed look.

As if only now noticing the gore sticking to Emmett's face and hair, Dean got the message and backed up a step, hands raised in a placating gesture. "I'll just wait out here and leave you to clean up," Dean stated softly.

Not that Emmett would have minded sharing a shower with Agent Dean, but the cubicle was barely large enough for one grown man, let alone two. He dragged the gore-splattered t-shirt over his head and dumped it straight into the garbage, deciding it wasn't worth trying to salvage even though he barely had enough money left to buy meals let alone new clothing. Stepping under hot water was a luxury he had refused to give up and he took his time sluicing off the gore that clung to his face and hair, letting his mind go blank. Except it never worked like that. He had carried the image of Brendan Dean into the shower with him, and despite his body's betrayal, he really didn't want to masturbate to that private fantasy while the man and his telepathic partner were almost next door. A quick twist of his hand and the water lost all heat, and he hissed through his teeth as the cold water cascaded over him, killing his erection immediately. With teeth starting to chatter, he turned off the water and stepped out, bundling himself up in a thick towel before stepping back into his office-home, only to find Dean sitting on the corner of his desk, waiting for him.

"Uh...I need to..." He thumbed towards the makeshift dresser and pulled out clean clothing, feeling very self-conscious as he dressed with his back turned to Dean. He wondered what the man thought of him, almost positive he had seen more than casual interest in the Dean's eyes when they first met.

When he turned back, fully dressed, Dean looked a little embarrassed and nervous. "Look, I hope you don't mind but I made a few calls to people I know...about your situation."

Any more talk was lost as NSA agents arrived to deal with the mess, attended by the local police who looked hideously out of their depth amid the professional agents. Dean - Brendan, as he had insisted on being called - stayed with him throughout. As the last agent and police officer left, with the door to the Longreen Snake Reserve locking behind them, Emmett returned to the laboratory to find Brendan standing in front of the window, staring straight into Betty's eyes.

"She likes you," he stated, because he knew enough to know when Betty was looking at something as potential prey and when she was merely fascinated by another of the two-legged creatures that came close to her enclosure. He turned to Freya, who was seated by his PC, sipping at coffee brought in from the nearby Starbucks. "I don't suppose...?" He tapped his head and glanced at Betty.

"Only the two-legged variety," she replied with a smile.

"Look, Emmett." Brendan licked his lips almost nervously. "We have agents watching over the place now, so why don't we take you to dinner?"

That was how it had started, with the three of them seated in a small restaurant, bonding over a bottle of house white and pasta while other agents sat outside in their cars, watching over them, Betty and his valuable research. Brendan took the first call halfway through the meal, smiling as he handed the cellphone to Emmett.

"This is Agent Morrison. I believe you've been trying to get in touch with me..."

Two days later, he had a letter from the bank telling him that all arrears had been paid. On the third day after the phone call, Morrison came to inspect the Longreen facilities.

"Dr. Emmett, I'm impressed with what you have built here. Part of the problem with setting back up the snake program was that the government was not willing to fund a brand new facility but, with a few security modifications, this place would be perfect. Are you willing to oversee the research, and allow us the use of... Betty?"

Emmett opened his mouth to speak but Morrison cut him off. "Of course, your research into an antivenin could easily run alongside."

Emmett stared across the room to where Brendan remained just out of earshot, knowing Freya would have told him everything Morrison thought. Brendan grinned and, even though he had known him only a few days, Emmett knew he could trust him.

"I think we have a deal, Agent Morrison."

"Excellent." The man grinned. "I'll get the paperwork drawn up and start compiling a list of potential staff. Of course, I would ask that you keep Longreen closed to the public until all the security is in place."

"No problem."

After he had shown Morrison out, accompanied by Freya who wanted to take advantage of the CIA plane to take her straight home, and returned to the laboratory, Emmett grabbed Brendan in a fit of jubilation. He had only intended to hug the man who had turned everything around for him but Brendan turned his head at the last moment and instead of the kiss grazing his cheek, their lips met. They froze for a moment, uncertainty dancing between them, and then Brendan relaxed, mouth softening, opening as they slid into a kiss that was deep and hard and needy, hands drawing the other in tight, bodies fitting together perfectly from thigh to mouth.

Any doubts slithered away as Emmett cradled the back of Brendan's head, lost in the taste and touch that he'd been dreaming of for days. He felt hands moving beneath his t-shirt, stroking down his back before delving beneath the waistband of his cargo pants to cup his ass, drawing him closer still until he could feel Brendan's hard cock pressing alongside his own. He moaned into the hot mouth, dragging himself away as his hand moved down Brendan's suit clad arm to grasp his hand, fingers interlocking. He drew Brendan backwards towards the office that also doubled as his bedroom, stopping only when he reached the narrow cot pushed up against one wall.

Slowly, he reached for the tie, loosening the knot and pulling it from Brendan's neck, folding it carefully and laying it on the cabinet beside his bed. He looked into Brendan's eyes nervously as he pushed at the jacket, draping it over the back of a chair before turning back to work at the buttons on Brendan's dress shirt. Emmett responded to the tug as Brendan pulled up his t-shirt, allowing the man to strip it over his head, leaving him half naked. Blunt fingernails scraped through the fine smattering of his chest hair before seeking a fully exposed nipple, the pleasure rippling straight to his groin.

Brendan didn't stop there, one hand moving down to unzip the cargo pants while the other kneaded the swell of Emmett's ass, slowly caressing, kissing and stripping each other until they were naked at last, with shoes kicked off and the remaining clothes scattered across the floor. Emmett allowed Brendan to maneuver him round, allowed him to press him backwards onto the narrow cot, to partially cover him with his far hairier body. They rocked together, hard cocks pressed against firm bellies, hands sliding over sweaty skin covering muscle and sinew and bone, mouths sucking and biting and kissing, devouring each other as the first heady rush of orgasm swept through Emmett and he gasped, his cry swallowed in a hungry kiss as he came against Brendan's slick belly.

Afterwards, they lay crushed together, neither willing to let go as they floated down from euphoric heights, back into their own bodies.

****

It ought to have been a one-night stand but neither of them was willing to let go of the other. Eventually, Brendan decided he'd had enough of chasing around after criminals and took over as the head of security at Longreen, moving into the small apartment that Emmett had insisted on creating within the Reserve so he could be close to Betty and his work, and yet still retain a little distance from the laboratory. They commandeered another small room and annexed it to the apartment to serve as Brendan's office.

Brendan knew Freya loved it. He knew she loved to visit when the voices in the city became too much for her to bear, loved to bask in the love that she described as a kind of aura glowing around her two best friends, sharing in their love for each other - and for her. Of course, teasingly, she never let Brendan forget how glad she was that he'd stayed away from her sister.

****

**Epilogue:**

In the Year of the Snake, 2013, Emmett almost froze during the tremendous applause echoing around the Concert Hall in Stockholm as he accepted his Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine. He took a moment to seek out his lover in the audience before returning to his seat with his medallion case, diploma and the document confirming the prize amount, worth over a million dollars, clutched in his hand. The rest of the ceremony passed in a haze, but every time he looked at the row containing his closest friends and family, he could not help smiling back in response to Brendan's wide and proud grin.

Brendan had stepped into his life at a time when he thought all his dreams were about to be crushed, and his research destroyed. He hadn't expected Brendan to spearhead a mini-campaign to gain him the funding he so desperately needed, with Freya's mind reading abilities proving he could trust Agent Morrison and his covert government agency. Under pressure from that government source, several of the large American pharmaceutical companies had agreed to share the cost of funding both the Longreen Snake Reserve and Emmett's research.

It had taken him almost another decade but the universal antivenin had already saved hundreds of lives since passing its human trials, and the simplicity of its production meant that even the poorest of countries and clinics could afford it. Some of the larger charities were already including his antivenin in their basic medical kits.

He had delivered his lecture on his achievement a few days earlier and, as the award ceremony drew to a close, only the formal banquet remained. After that, he had promised Brendan a vacation, knowing they both needed one after the pressure of the past few months.

Hours later, Emmett fell back onto the king-sized bed in one of the most prestigious hotel suites in Stockholm, grinning inanely as Brendan stripped off his tie and jacket before falling onto the bed beside him. He was still grinning when Brendan rolled up onto one elbow, his other hand tracing the smile with a single finger before leaning in to kiss Emmett gently. He'd been gentle right from the start, treating Emmett like he was something infinitely precious and fragile despite the fact that Emmett was slightly larger in build. Admittedly, his more sedentary lifestyle had given him a little padding where Brendan had toned muscle but Brendan had never complained. If anything, he had always mentioned his love of the softer curve of Emmett's belly, laying his head down and using it as a pillow. He did that now, planting soft kisses on exposed skin that still tickled every time.

"Nobel Laureate," Brendan sighed, his breath warm against Emmett's stomach, making him shiver in delight at more than just the words. "Never had one of those before." He lifted back up and began to pull at Emmett's clothing, slowly undressing them both until they were hard and naked, fingers grazing flesh, mapping contours that each already knew from memory, from so many days and nights of passion.

Emmett moaned as Brendan bit down on a nipple, hands scrabbling to sink into the soft, spiked hair and tugging on the strands to end the almost exquisite torture. Brendan looked up with an unrepentant grin but swiftly kissed the abused nipple before working his way down Emmett's body. He writhed when Brendan's tongue delved into his navel, barely holding back on an undignified giggle, only to gasp as the hot mouth engulfed his cock, sucking him down deep and fast as only Brendan could. Strong hands held down his hips, preventing him from thrusting up into the perfect mouth and he whined plaintively, knowing Brendan wouldn't give him release until Emmett had lost all control and begged. He cried out as he came, mind whiting out from the sheer, intoxicating pleasure ripping through him, only becoming aware of Brendan rubbing hard against his thigh when he felt the slippery, wet heat of Brendan's climax. Brendan half-collapsed on top of him, his hot, sweaty face plastered against Emmett's chest.

Sticky but sated, Emmett drifted into memories, recalling that first, sweet time together, stretched out on Emmett's narrow bed in the small room next to the laboratory. That night was also a celebration, both of them drunk on wine and the pleasure of seeing Betty and Emmett's research saved. They still argued over who had made the first move that night even though they had both reached for each other.

The years melted away as Brendan tightened his hold on Emmett, and the ones stretching before them seemed full of bright promise as Emmett wondered how they would celebrate the next Year of the Snake. He tightened his own hold on Brendan when he realized he didn't really care - not as long as they celebrated it together.

END


End file.
